Choral Music / Classical / trad québécois

Sacré Gilles Vigneault | Between Natashquan and Buenos Aires

by Judith Hamel

Sacred music sometimes tells us more than the catechism. It brings us together, it uplifts us, it reminds us that we are here, together. This Saturday evening, the Chœur Métropolitain invites us to a double mass at the crossroads of the Americas. A meeting of the Argentinian and Quebecois peoples, these Masses bring the rhythms of everyday life to life, blending European traditions with local folklore.

But the real star of the evening was Gilles Vigneault. A charming old lady sitting beside me whispered in my ear: “Monsieur Vigneault is here! People in the front, in the back, turn around and pull out their phones to capture the presence of this legend. Even before the first note rings out in the Maison symphonique, an ovation rises to salute this great man who forged the Quebec nation.

The first part of the concert was devoted to Argentina, through the music of four of its composers: Carlos Guastavino, Astor Piazzolla, Juan de Dios Filiberto and Ariel Ramírez.

The concert opens on a note of wonder and contemplation, with Carlos Guastavino’s Indianas. His charming melodies sing to us of the apple through love lyrics and nature metaphors. In Astor Piazzolla’s Oblivion, a work originally written for bandoneon, the arrangement for choir and solo voice with soprano Myriam Leblanc bewitched us from the very first note with its pure, colorful timbre. This melancholy version makes the work’s theme of forgetting resonate like sweet nostalgia. With Caminito de Juan de Dios Filiberto, the dynamic changes. This light-hearted song, rooted in the tango tradition, adds a lively, convivial touch to the concert.

Finally, before the Quebec mass, Ariel Ramírez’s Misa Criolla concludes the first part. Like Gilles Vigneault with his native land of Natashquan, Ramírez explores the mix of cultures, between Indigenous roots and European heritages. The work surprises with rhythmic dance sections alternating with lyrical passages. Soloists Antonio Figueroa (tenor) and Emanuel Lebel (baritone) complemented each other beautifully. This lively mass, rooted in local traditions, deserves to be heard again and again.

Like Ramirez, Vigneault weaves the threads of people who are both Indigenous and European in this mass that evokes our northern winds and the prayers of ordinary people. Presented in its world premiere, this new arrangement of the High Mass by Sebastian Verdugo takes on a light, colorful form, where the textures of the choir mingle with those of guitars, charango, piano, double bass, violin and percussion. While most of the mass retains a traditional structure and texts, some tunes are transformed into rigodon accompanied by spoons and folk guitar, which pleasantly surprises listeners.

Rooted in Vigneault’s memory of Natashquan, the first and last part includes lyrics in Innu: “Shash anameshikanù. Matshik! Ituték! Minuatukushùl etaiék.” (Now that the Mass is said, Go live in peace on earth).

Finally, after waiting patiently for their moment, the Vincent-d’Indy choristers joined the musicians for the final songs of the concert. Under the sensitive arrangements of François O. Ouimet, several emblematic Gilles Vigneault songs were performed, ending, of course, with Gens du pays. With their eyes riveted on Vigneault, the entire audience stood to sing him our anthem, which is celebrating its 50th anniversary this year, as is the Alliance chorale du Québec. It was a touching moment in which we felt the love of a people for our Quebec, but above all for the man who gave birth to the hymn we all know so well.

Baroque / Classical / Modern Classical / période romantique

Les Violons du Roy and Antoine Tamestit | A Gripping and Profound Performance

by Alexandre Villemaire

Two years after a musical encounter that was described as masterful, French violist Antoine Tamestit, considered one of the world’s finest, returned to the Quebec stage with Les Violons du Roy. Presented on Thursday evening in Quebec City, this same concert, which took place on Friday evening at Salle Bourgie, featured themes such as death, loss and departure: themes which, despite their dark side, are nonetheless necessary to address, and in which we can nonetheless find light and a form of humanity.

Without preamble, once the orchestra and Tamestit had taken the stage, the hall was plunged into darkness, with the only source of light the lamps on the musicians’ lecterns. This set the stage perfectly for the first piece of the concert, Johann Sebastian Bach’s chorale Für deinen Thron ich tret’ich hiermit [Lord, here I stand before your throne], arranged for strings. According to Antoine Tamestit, in his speech following this short piece by Bach, he wanted to create a sensory experience in which the audience and musicians were led to feel the music through their breathing, through the intrinsic energies of the movement of the musical lines. The moment was indeed soothing, with a sound that was relentlessly gentle, yet rich in harmonies and low tones. The soloist, who also acted as conductor for the first part, followed with Paul Hindemith’s Trauermusik for viola and strings, composed a few hours after the death of King George V. We then enter another universe and harmonic language, with varied textures and musical materials, ending with a quotation from the same Bach chorale.

Tamestit then invited the audience to take part in an aural treasure hunt with Benjamin Britten’s Lachrymae, in which the composer quotes, in the form of variations, the song by Elizabethan composer John Dowland, If my complaints could passions move. To provide context, he performed the original in an arrangement of his own, preceded by the beautiful Flow my tears. A particularly touching moment, in which Tamestit’s sensitive playing came to the fore as the strings accompanied him in pizzicato. In Britten’s piece, Tamestit invited listeners to try and spot the musical extracts of these Renaissance songs scattered throughout Britten’s work. There was a strong appeal to pique listeners’ attention and invite them to open their ears wide to this universe of sound. His interpretation of the musical lines, with their enveloping thickness of sound and pure, fleshy grain, showed an invested and sensitive musicality. It has to be said, however, that Britten won the game of musical hide-and-seek, with Dowland’s excerpts remaining difficult to identify, even for seasoned ears.

The pièce de résistance of the concert was Tamestit’s arrangement for string orchestra of Johannes Brahms’ String Quintet in G major. For this final piece, in which Antoine Tamestit joins the viola section, we were treated to a blaze of emotions and luminous vivacity, particularly in the first and last movements, while the central movements – Adagio and Un poco allegretto – flirted with Hungarian folk accents and melancholy affects respectively. In this new texture with its increased sound amplitude, playing with 21 instrumentalists together without a conductor is a challenge that Les Violons du Roy met with brio and aplomb, producing a particularly rousing and gripping result, especially in the last movement, which is extremely dance-like with gypsy inflections.

The warm ovation from the audience and the radiant smiles on the musicians’ faces made this second collaboration between Antoine Tamestit and Les Violons du Roy well worth repeating. Having begun in darkness and contemplation, the concert ended in great light and human energy. Bringing out the beauty of a program that traces in filigree the themes of death and loss is not in itself innovative. But in this program, imbued with a skilful organicity, where we are naturally transported from one state of mind to another, we are reminded that even in the darkest moments, we can find beauty. To quote Félix Leclerc: “C’est grand la mort, c’est plein de vie dedans.”

Photo Credit : Pierre Langlois

Baroque / Choral Music / Classical / Classical Singing / Sacred Music

Ensemble Caprice | A Beautiful Evening of Passion

by Alexis Desrosiers-Michaud

Just two weeks away, Ensemble Caprice and Matthias Maute prelude the Easter celebrations with a presentation of Johann Sebastian Bach’s St. John Passion. In his opening address, Maute recounts that this work has many links, especially in the arias, with the art of opera. As he told us earlier in the interview, “The St. John Passion alternates recitative, arias and choruses to carry the story with intensity. The recitatives tell the story, the arias express the emotions of the characters, and the choruses embody the crowd, reinforcing the drama. The orchestra supports the whole with expressive writing that underlines the key moments.” The proof was shown on Friday.

In the absence of staging, characteristic of the oratorio, a narrator – in this case, the Evangelist – is needed to describe the scenes. Supporting the entire work on his shoulders, tenor Philippe Gagné rises to the challenge of interpreting this thankless but oh-so-important role. His intention to really tell a story is clear, with impeccable German diction, and he lets the textual phrases dictate his interpretation, rather than following the score, placing absolute trust in the continuo.

The other discovery of the evening was chorister-soloist William Kraushaar – whose composition had captivated us at the last Caprice concert – in the role of Jesus. Not only is his voice clear, but God, it carries! We’re already looking forward to hearing him as a soloist next season. Countertenor Nicholas Burns and soprano Janelle Lucyk deliver their arias with great emotion. Burns is very moving in duet with the mournful viola da gamba in Es ist vollbracht (“All is finished”). As for Lucyk, her voice is somewhat restrained, but blends well with the flutes in the aria Ich folge dir gleichfalls (“I follow you”). These two soloists not only deliver their arias with musicality, but also with a spellbinding, moving stage presence.

The chorus is very well prepared, and the dry articulations given to it fit well with the role it occupies, that of the plebeian ordering and cheering the action of the biblical tale. The best example is the track “Kreuzige” (Cruxify it!), where the short, accented articulations are incisive.

At the very end of the work, there was something solemn about seeing the soloists (except for John the Evangelist) join the chorus in a dancing Rut Wohl, and the final chorale, in accompaniment, thanksgiving and celebration of Christ’s life.

Photo: Tam Lan Truong

Classical Singing / Contemporary

Nouvel Ensemble Moderne | New Songs for a New Era

by Judith Hamel

The Nouvel Ensemble Moderne (NEM) is writing the first pages of a new book in this 2024-2025 season, divided into three chapters and driven by the wind of renewal of Jean-Michaël Lavoie, who succeeds Lorraine Vaillancourt after 35 years at the helm of the chamber orchestra. For the second chapter of three this season, the NEM invites us to the Cinquième salle at Place des arts for a concert in collaboration with the Atelier lyrique de l’Opéra de Montréal.

Entitled Chapitre 2 – Des airs nouveaux, this afternoon concert featured a repertoire equally divided between three Quebec composers and Korean composer Unsuk Chin. Upon entering the foyer, the audience was greeted by a mediation team led by Irina Kirchberg, visiting professor at the Université de Montréal, which included a recording device for superimposing spectators’ voices, as well as an interactive panel in the form of a memory game inviting them to discover more about the works on the program.

The concert then opened with José Evangelista’s Vision, a piece for small ensemble and mezzo-soprano with a mystical aura. Brazilian singer Camila Montefusco brilliantly interpreted this work, which highlights the composer’s Spanish origins and multiple influences.

This was followed by Claude Vivier’s Bouchara, a long love song sung entirely in an invented language. Soprano Chelsea Kolić, buoyed by the expressiveness of the writing, gave us the impression of understanding her message, even as it eluded us. So we don’t need to speak the language to understand love.

In the second half, Luna Pearl Woolf’s Orpheus on Sappho’s Shore impressed with the rich voice of countertenor Ian Sabourin, who deftly navigated his multiple registers.

Finally, the NEM offered Unsuk Chin’s Cantatrix Sopranica, the only piece outside Canada on the program. Written for two sopranos, a countertenor and ensemble, it was performed here by Chelsea Kolić, Ariadne Lih and Bridget Esler, three sopranos whose timbres intertwine perfectly in this texturally fascinating work. Chin explores the very act of singing, summoning vocal warm-ups, role-playing and unexpected reversals between singers and musicians. Its fragmented writing makes it a hyper-vocal work in which the orchestral ensemble extends and magnifies the voices. Accessible and complex at the same time, blending virtuosity, humor and emotion, this piece is a perfect match for the NEM’s new direction.

The collaboration between the Atelier lyrique and the NEM has been a success. The commitment of the young singers, with their expressive, precise voices, blends very well with the spirit of the NEM.

Jean-Michaël Lavoie conducts with such fluidity. When the lights illuminate the musicians’ work, we can at the same time deconstruct every little intention of the conductor, seeing with clarity the variations of suppleness in these gestures. In this way, the NEM is in good hands.

For their next concert, we’re lucky not to have to wait too long. On May 10, they’ll be at Salle Pierre-Mercure, presenting Chapitre 3 – Dérive 2 Pierre Boulez.

Electronic / Indigenous peoples

Centre PHI / Habitat sonore | A Totally Sublime Afternoon with Moe Clark and Pursuit Grooves

by Léa Dieghi

An all-encompassing bath of sound. A wave of sound that caresses our minds: immersed in the sound habitat, one of Montreal’s only spatialized listening rooms, at the Centre PHI.

It was a sunny Thursday afternoon, between my morning and late afternoon classes, in the middle of the week. Like everyone else, it’s the frenzy of everyday life: school, work, meetings, subway. The usual movements are at the heart of the city’s hustle and bustle. We rarely think about the hustle and bustle of the city, with all our senses constantly in focus. Then, one day, we make the choice: unconsciously or consciously. We stop. And today, this interruption of the mundane took place at the Centre PHI.

There, I discovered one of their new interactive experiences: Habitat Sonore.
In this intimate listening room, where our bodies rest on ball cushions in near-darkness, we are projected into a new universe. Everyday life is transmuted into a reality composed entirely of music. No telephone, no conversation, no lights, no movement, no outside distractions whatsoever.

All that remained were the musical compositions and the few colored, subdued glimmers of neon. It was the first time I’d experienced being immersed in such a listening room. With this “orchestra” of 16 loudspeakers scattered around the room, the music seemed to come from nowhere. And from everywhere at once. It was a little inside me, and a little outside me, too. A true mastery of sound spatialization.

Of course, this active listening offered by the Centre PHI would not have been possible without the work of various artists, who for several months had the opportunity to rework some of their musical productions. Totally sublime, Moe Clarke and Pursuit Grooves were also able to master spatialized music production, creating their own auditory decors.

After a few minutes’ wait, with only three people around me (a rather intimate setting), program 2 kicks off. Totalement Sublime, with songs from the Albédo album, opens the dance. The performance is surely the longest of the three, and the most progressive. It gets off to a gentle start, with sparse synthesizer sounds and little analog glitches. I recognize their “760KM” music, but it stretches out much longer than I remember.

This is a light-hearted opening that anchors us in our cushions, yet it is soon shattered by the brittle sound of guitar strings. The composition follows a linear, if sometimes chaotic, trajectory, with the various noises and notes moving back and forth across the room.

If Totalement Sublime offered us a glitchy journey into sonic matter, Moe Clark, for her part, takes us into the depths of the Canadian mountains and aboriginal myths. Between her use of soundscapes (trees in the wind, the current of a river, leaves and branches crackling under the weight of an animal’s footsteps…), and her “spoken words” – her poetry – we take flight to the rhythm of the beating of a hummingbird’s wings, water drums, horn and gourd rattles and throat singing. Her voice, which sings in creative form, is piercing in piyêsiwak ahkohtowin, and Montreal suddenly seems far away.
The program closes with a final composition by Ontario-based artist-producer Pursuit Grooves. She offers us an experimental composition, somewhere between downtempo and abstract, to bring us down gently from this hour-long sonic journey.

INFOS and TICKETS

Contemporary / Minimalist

Steve Reich’s quartets at Bourgie Hall : a perfectly oiled minimalist mechanism

by Frédéric Cardin

On Tuesday 1 April, for the first time in Montreal, all three of Steve Reich’s string quartets were performed in a single concert. When I say string quartets, I really mean string quartets AND tape, because they all use the latter. Played in inverse chronological order by the Mivos Quartet, the three works are emblematic of the sonic universe of the American, a pioneer of minimalism and, for many artists of subsequent generations, the grandfather of techno music and the sampling technique.

READ THE INTERVIEW WITH THE VIOLIST OF THE MIVOS QUARTET ABOUT STEVE REICH’S QUARTETS

Indeed, two of the three quartets use sound sampling (concrete sounds, snatches of voice, etc.) in a rhythmic and melodic perspective. The use of concrete sounds in music does not date back to Reich (Schaeffer, Henry and Stockhausen were there before him), but his instinctive and rhythmically catchy way of distributing them has inspired a creative movement of which hip hop is the latest genre to take up, often unknowingly, certain imperatives.

The most recent, WTC 9/11, uses sounds taken from the tragedy of 11 September 2001 in New York, while the first, “Different Trains” (which remains the best of all), draws a parallel between the trains travelling between New York and Los Angeles (which Reich often used at one time), and those that transported Jews to extermination camps during the Second World War (Reich is Jewish, and the allegory came forcefully to mind). In between, the Triple Quartet requires a tape on which two other quartets each play a score while the live ensemble performs its own on stage.

The Mivos Quartet has recorded these same three quartets for Deutsche Grammophon (they also played all the tracks of the two recorded quartets used inTriple Quartet). Its musicians are therefore well versed in the demands of this music. Nevertheless, performing this music on stage is extremely demanding. You have to concentrate at all times to react precisely to what is happening in the soundtrack and with your colleagues, and you have to keep track of all the repetitive patterns of the score, regularly punctuated by small changes that are as subtle as they are fundamental to the dynamic energy of the music. As they say, it’s easy to get lost in all that.

Hats off to the four excellent musicians of the New York-based ensemble (on their first visit here!) Olivia de Prato and Adam Woodward on violins, Victor Lowrie Tafoya on viola and Nathan Watts on cello. Their reading was breathtaking in its precision and coordination.

It’s almost an annual gathering of great names in minimalism that the Bourgie Hall programme offers us (in recent years we’ve had Glass and Missy Mazzoli), and we welcome it with enthusiasm. We hope it will continue and, why not, that there will be even more.

Baroque / classique / période romantique / post-romantique

Jaeden Izik-Dzurco, Beyond Impeccable

by Alain Brunet

Every year, if not every semester of this era, we enjoy an emerging supravirtuoso, and we have to admit that the best on Earth are more numerous, that the nec plus ultra is more considerable than ever. A few weeks ago, for example, a Montreal teenager electrified the small Salle Claude-Léveillée, as Sophia Shuya Liu’s hallucinatory abilities were revealed to her precocious public, including international agents who had heard about her exceptional technique and playing.

On Sunday afternoon, Pro Musica brought us Jaeden Izik-Dzurko, a young man with a string of major awards, including the Leeds, Maria Canals and Montreal International Music Competitions (MIMC), who verges on perfection.

We got the full measure of this prodigious 26-year-old Canadian musician, based in Germany.

As for JS Bach, Izik-Dzurko’s performance of the Partita no.4 in D major BWV 828 is simply ideal. Izik-Dzurko’s respect for the score is impeccable, with no unnecessary affectation or exaggeration. Exemplary precision and clarity, period. Here, the performer is concerned to respect the composer’s exact intentions, without becoming technically austere or clinically obsessive – which is often the case with excellent… technicians. This fine line between virtuosity and musicality will be honored from the first to the last bar of this excellent concert.

From JSB, we move on to Rachmaninov’s Preludes op.23, imagined by the virtuoso pianist and composer at the turn of the 20th century (1901-1903), of which no. 5 in G minor has gone down in history. Again, the performer is dazzling in his refinement, tone and accuracy. The virtuosity stakes are exceptional here, and any concert pianist must master this repertoire, whereas Izik-Dzurko manages to transcend it without going overboard.

After the interval, Scriabin’s Fantaisie in B minor, also composed at the dawn of the previous century (1900), also generates this impression of perfection, of absolute understanding of the score and a rendering that is both sober and deeply musical, even in its most entangled moments.

For a musician who claims to be less naturally inclined to master Chopin, whose Sonata no.3 in B minor Op.58 he played, one can’t help noticing irritations, tensions and other excesses of zeal, even during the most vertiginous phase from the sonata to its conclusion. Here again, it’s pure music-loving bliss.

At the age of 26, Izik-Dzurco has reached this level of mastery and has a long road ahead of him. Of course, life should provide him with the rough edges to further refine his artistic personality and make him even more relevant. What’s more, more touching.

art numérique / Experimental / Contemporary / immersion

Sight + Sound | Fili Gibbons

by Loic Minty

Friday night at Eastern Bloc was an evening of joyful, playful practices that invoke the child and the emotions of the heart. From the heart came voices, powerful and defiant in their poise, that spoke and sang of stories. Stories about passion, about the clouds and the coming rain. Practical myths for a pleasurable life, extending far beyond the stage. How can we carry them there?

Fili Gibbons accompanied by their fairies dissolved all boundaries between public and performer. The sounds blanketed a stream of casually recorded discussions between the artists and held a space for introspective thinking. Occasionally, this space would open up and invite the audience to share their own thoughts. « What is happiness to you ? »

Between themselves the artists smiled and laughed as they arranged an eclectic post-digital garden of love. At moments, Fili’s voice seemed a conduct of light that opened a portal to ancient folk traditions. A kind of symphonie of spring, the melodies played on themes that could have been heard in a Ryuichi Sakamoto score and their cello held a similar mystical depth to Arthur Russel’s as it weaved itself into an electronic ambiance.

While the visuals held a line of continuity in their colorful and glitchy textures, the performance segmented itself into a series of short poems and scenes. Friendship, love, passion, work, fatigue. Each theme held itself in an intimacy that made the subjects honest and approachable, nothing was left out or hidden from the audience. From the last time I saw Fili at PHI Centre, their sound practice has evolved towards further use of sampling and looping still with the same calm and sensitive style. Definitely an artist to look out for and I am excited to know what they do next.

Overall I was very impressed by the care that Sight+Sound put into curating a showcase around, well, care. Underlying elements of astral connection and myths of love tied together the pieces from Fili Gibbons to Deep Gazing.

This last performance had the crowd smiling all the way through as the over-exaggerated characters gazed longingly at each other in the eyes. The Sisters of the Celestial Order held the crowd in their spell as they read through their book on a new practice called « deep gazing ». Quite literally like listening to mystics, they slowly and carefully explained the shape of clouds in humorous and poetic fashion.

Their philosophy slowly seeped into our imaginations as we left and looked at the sky « Skry! ». Sight and Sound is a reminder of the importance of art in our lives, it is what leaves you full and accomplished at the end of the day.

MORE INFOS ABOUT SIGHT + SOUND

art numérique / Electronic / expérimental / contemporain / immersif

Sight + Sound | A Rain Ritual in Anticipation

by Félicité Couëlle-Brunet

The concept of teru teru bōzu, small handmade dolls hung from windows to ward off rain in Japan, carries a rich symbolism oscillating between care, hope and control. Teru Teru, a world premiere at the Sight + Sound 2025 Festival presented at Eastern Bloc, seizes on this tradition to offer a choreographic and sonic exploration of the management of care in a world of perpetual uncertainty. Hanako Hoshimi-Caines and Hanako Brierley draw on these symbols to create a performance where intimacy meets ritual, where the past dialogues with the imaginary.

From the very first moments, the stage is inhabited by an ambience that is both gentle and spectral. The scenic device, where two giant-sized teru teru bōzu dolls are placed on the floor in the middle of the room, composes an evocative visual landscape. This set, oscillating between childlike playfulness and a certain ghostly presence, becomes the stage for a captivating sensory exploration. Yet beneath this apparent gentleness lurks a latent tension: the act of hanging a teru teru bōzu is a hopeful prayer, but also a tacit promise of punishment. If the doll fails to make the sun appear, it is condemned to be decapitated.

A vocal interplay between gentleness and tension

Brierley’s sound work accentuates this tension. Through subtle use of vocal looping, she deconstructs the traditional nursery rhyme teru teru bōzu, repeated and superimposed to reveal unsuspected nuances. This sound loop, in which the voice becomes a hypnotic instrument, instills a playful lightness while hovering a diffuse menace. At first childlike and reassuring, this sound treatment gradually transforms into an abstract, almost mechanical litany, devoid of affect.

The vocal dialogue between Hoshimi-Caines and Brierley is part of an organic dynamic in which the voices cross, intertwine and respond to each other. At times, their voices merge into a gentle harmony, evoking an incantatory chant where care takes on a collective dimension. But this gentleness is often interrupted by abrupt silences or vocal shifts that create spaces of tension. Far from being mere pauses, these interruptions become breaths of uncertainty.

Silence as a space of rupture

It is above all in these silences that the performance finds its depth. When the voices fade away, an empty space opens up, inviting us to listen more attentively to the body and the environment. These silences, far from being absences, become moments of suspension where the spectator is confronted with the expectation, vulnerability and risk of failure inherent in ritual. This dialogue between fullness and emptiness gives a particular resonance to the choreographic gestures, where each suspension seems to amplify the fragility of the movements.

A ritual devoid of emotion, a source of tension

Teru Teru explores the tension inherent in ritual, where the repetition of gestures and sounds does not freeze the performance in a rigid mechanic, but infuses it with an organic vitality. The simplicity of the ritual – hanging up a doll in the hope of warding off the rain – is gradually emptied of its affect to become an automatism, a repetition in which emotion fades away to make way for a muted tension. Far from soothing, this emotional stripping makes the dramatic charge more intense, confronting the viewer with the uncertainty of hope hanging by a thread.

With Teru Teru, Hoshimi-Caines and Brierley offer a work of rare delicacy, in which care becomes a living ritual, oscillating between hope, control and abandonment. In this infinite dance of repetition, silence and renewal, the management of care is transformed into a space of expectation, where the tension born of the absence of overt emotion becomes the real driving force behind the performance.

INFOS SIGHT & SOUND

Baroque / Classical / Classical Singing / Opera

Opera McGill | Imeneo or the art of “less is more

by Alexis Desrosiers-Michaud

On Friday evening, Opera McGill gave the first in its series of performances of Georg Friedrich Handel’s Imeneo, at the Paradox Theatre, a former church on Monk Street, transformed into a performance hall, all in a cabaret format, where guests are invited to enjoy a drink during the performance.

Of the five main singers, it’s tenor Patricia Yates in the title role who stands out. Both in the stage interpretation of her character, a little over-proud, and in the amplitude of her voice, she provides a presence that transcends the framework of Paradox, and would work just as well in a more conventional opera house. In the role of Trinto, her opponent, countertenor Reed Demangone, isn’t lacking in stature either, but for opposite reasons. More restrained and shy, Demangone shows agility and delicacy in his arias, as well as in his performance of the man who will have his bride stolen from him.

On the ladies’ side, Elizabeth Fast is a show-stopper as Clomiri in the first half of the opera, trying to seduce Imeneo, who has saved her from a pirate attack, in the company of Rosmene. The latter, played by Patricia Wrigglesworth, grows in stature in the second half, becoming more and more assertive, giving her credibility in her choice of husband at the very end. In the end, Fast and Wrigglesworth deliver equal performances, each knowing when and how to get the better of her rival.

Apart from the Roman-style costumes, there’s nothing in the presentation to give us a clear idea of the era or setting in which the action is taking place. In this respect, Patrick Hansen’s simple, effective staging holds up well. The set consists of just four vertical strips descending from the ceiling and a gigantic rock that looks like a popcorn kernel, suspended in the middle. A rock that only seems to serve to redirect the lighting and obstruct the surtitles, necessary given that the opera is sung in Italian.

Also, since he doesn’t have to, there are no set or costume changes. As a result, Hansen eliminates the risk of the listener wondering “where are we now?” or “who’s who now?” and can concentrate on the action. In short, this staging is so effective that you don’t immediately realize how simple it is, without being boring either. If you try to do too much, you sometimes miss the point… but this is not the case here, and it’s very well done.

As is customary in student productions, each character has a double; the “B” cast will be singing as soloists tomorrow, and the “A” will be back on Sunday. Except that in this production, the notion of the double is finely and judiciously exploited. All ten artists are part of the three concerts, but those “on leave” perform as chorus members, albeit in their character costumes. The climax of this play on doubles comes at the end of the first act, when the doubles occult their namesakes, like emotions tearing at the soul, plunging the auditorium into a macabre red.

Photo: Stephanie Sedlbauer

Electro-Pop / hyperpop

The girls slay Turbo Haus

by Stephan Boissonneault

Ah, Montreal springs. One minute, it’s warm, and everything is melting from winter, and you almost get sidelined by a legion of bicycles on the main road. The next, we get a squall–a violent storm that brings wet snow and the all-too-familiar dampness. Fortunately, it quickly heats up within Turbo Haus on Saturday night during electro-pop live shows featuring FIAMMA, Storylike, Franki, and Hot House–ladies on stage slaying in every sense of the word.

FIAMMA I Amir Bakarov

FIAMMA from Ottawa and Montreal starts the show with her dreamy bedroom pop, clearly an artist still finding her groove, featuring backing tracks that get a bit heavy and industrial with the production but, at times, fall off into obscurity. She can definitely sing, as found in the track “wish you were here,” but should choose to punctuate those euphoric poppy moments live with some vocal backing tracks or something with more flourish to stand out.

The next artist, Storylike, opts for an electro set but with moments of grungey shoegaze pop. Her voice is mesmerizing at times, and later in her set, she hits some fuzzed-out chords on the guitar. For the most part, the set is enjoyable, as Storylike chooses to start with the dancy vibe and end with the sombre grunge guitar vibe. It’s an interesting choice ’cause you can tell people came here to dance the snow away.

Storylike I Amir Bakarov

Franki is happy to oblige. She takes the stage, now backed up by Vanessa Barron (aka DJ Wiltbarn) and bassist Julia Mela (of Gondola), for the live show–which we saw the debut of a Taverne Tour. I’m glad this lineup has been glued together. Even though Franki can command a stage alone, her band adds so much more to the hyperpop dance party. We get little moments of DJ live mixes, backing vocals and triangle dings from Barron. Mela holds down the groove with a few irresistible bass lines, and Franki dances around the stage singing songs from her All the Things I Try to Say EP. We also hear a new song she calls “Drugsmusic,” with some nostalgic ’90s-era British electro invasion beats and vocals. Franki delivers it all, as always.

Franki I Amir Bakarov

To end the night is Hot House, a duo that comes out blazing, self-glamourizing and chanting that “all the boys and girls want to party in the hot hot house.” The backing tracks from Taylor Fergusson feel euro-electro sleaze, heavy on the bass as Kk, a blondeshell who wears leather booty shorts, sings about sex, money, power and weirdly enough, Jesus. Halfway through the set, Hot House is joined by some backup dancers Angel Buell and Spencer Dorsey, who brings some synchronized dances to the chaos. They grind and twist on the floro with Kk and the big moment is during the track “I’m Expensive,” as they lift Kk into the air and spin her around Midsommar style. A few beers in, the vibes are flowing as Hot House ends the night on a sweaty note.

Hot House I Amir Bakarov

Alternative / Post-Punk / Shoegaze

Shunk brings down the hammer

by Stephan Boissonneault

Playing a show mid-week can be challenging due to a bunch of mitigating factors, yet the air inside of the La Sotterenea basement was absolutely buzzing last Wednesday for the Shunk album launch. This was, of course, for Shunk’s wonderfully whacky debut release, Shunkland – which we wrote about HERE. Spirits were high, high-lighted by a pile of empty beer cans before the clubified opening act, Born at Midnite (commonly referred to now as BAM).

Born at Midnite (BAM) I Stephan Boissonneault

This Arbutus label two-piece (made up of vocalist/sampler Amery Sandford and guitarist/vocalist David Carriere) is somewhat of an unsung hero in the Montreal electro community, sharing about a million streams but only playing a handful of shows since their debut in 2020. If you listen to BAM’s recordings, you immediately feel the professional touch of the mix, and this luckily isn’t lost during the live show—the vocals are pushed back when they have to be, the pounding bass is thick when it needs to be, the lead guitar lines cut through. It’s a hazy kind of musical mix that makes you feel like you’re in a club, but not the kind where you get abosultely throttled. It was a fun and lighthearted show and perfectly set the energy for Shunk.

Shunk takes the stage and immediately jumps into Shunkland‘s dreamy, soon-to-be nightmare opener, “Sated.” We get a full stereo mix live as guitarist Peter Baylis rocks two amps, one for the high and one for the low ends. The bass guitar and reverb guitar arpeggio bleed into the room, and singer Gabrielle Domingue sings with an operatic, Hounds of Love falsetto vibe. Shunk is all about putting you into a weird and whimsical trance and then bringing down the hammer. And it’s not just with heavy distortion like so many other bands. You’ll have high energy moments where the instrumentation is completely clean yet, staccato and delayed. It’s a very 80s post-punk vibe but also quite dancy. I mean, the song “Clouds” feels like sweaty and vibrant prom dance circa 1983.

Some of these songs are absolutely hilarious in their subject matter; we got one about goblins, cute little tennis outfits, a devilish, sultry snake, and a “Rat King” named Stew, who becomes a one-of-us entity that has Domingue growling, “Give us your money / give us your infant child!!!” One crowd member gladly screamed, “Take it, please!” Not sure she meant the money or infant child…

There’s a certain kind of coolness factor with local bands. Some choose to act aloof, clad in dark colours, and unacknowledging, and some really peacock it up for their shows. Shunk is a mix of the two. You have the unassuming slacker vibe of guitarist Peter Baylis (dressed in an orange button-up shirt with frazzled curly hair) and drummer Adrian Vaktor (sporting an Alexisonfire tee). Then there’s bass player (although she screams each lyric without a mic) Julia Hill, who is dressed in grunge-90s chic with a checked skirt and big O belt, and lead vocalist Gabrielle Domingue who is decked out in a full pin-stripe suit, with a single button, revealing a bit of skin and what looks to be a chainlink leather top.

Of course, Domingue’s suit jacket comes off during the carnal-charged “Snake, – about someone consuming you, bones and all. It’s impossible to look away from the spectacle as Domingue, wearing only the top (which turns out to be a leather bra with chains), dives into the crowd and screams in a frenzy, pushing the crowd into a mosh. It’s this same kind of hardcore energy that reminds me of her defunct band Visibly Choked (RIP). During “Snake”‘s outro, Hill stands on the edge of the stage, screaming each lyric, and behind her, Baylis and Vaktor are head-banging in reverie. You can easily tell that Shunk is a band that has each member thoroughly enjoying what they are doing.

For the encore, we get one new song from Shunk that has Hill bowing her bass for some drone and, based on sound alone, could have easily been on Shunkland. But for now, we’ll let them cook up another batch of songs.